


Throwing Things

by Tamasha



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: ALL THE ANGST, Abuse, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Feels, Babies, Blue Eyes, Boys' Love, Crazy arthur, Emotions, Everyone Is Gay, Gay, Hurt Merlin, Hurt/Comfort, Knives, Love, M/M, Oh My God, Pining, Prince Arthur, Relationship(s), Romance, So much angst, Temper Tantrums, Whining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-08
Updated: 2018-02-08
Packaged: 2019-03-15 10:24:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13611396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tamasha/pseuds/Tamasha
Summary: Arthur throws tantrums and has no control of himself whatsoever. He is basically a big baby. Merlin gets caught in the crossfire. Will Arthur learn self control?





	Throwing Things

**Author's Note:**

> written by Tamara

Throwing things was a bad habit Arthur never broke. When he was younger and he didn't get his way, his solution often was to throw things till the servants or his father gave him what he wanted. As prince, no one complained because he never hurt anyone. As he grew up, he did it less and less, but occasionally, when he was upset, he'd resort to his old habits. And Merlin was the worst servant he had ever come across, so naturally he'd have a few harmless things thrown his way.

Now, Arthur wasn’t unreasonable. He only asked things of Merlin that he knew the servant could accomplish. It was Merlin’s idiotic retorts that made Arthur’s blood boil. The prince would never intentionally hurt the boy, he wouldn't. When he threw things, even as a child, he would purposely miss. He didn’t want to  _ hurt _ people, not like his father did. He was just upset and throwing things made him feel better.

The first time he threw something at Merlin, the boy looked so surprised Arthur almost felt guilty. Almost. But the longer Merlin was under his employ, the more Arthur realized he could get away with teasing and taunting his manservant in whatever way he pleased. Merlin was the only servant to ever fight back and to put Arthur in his place, or what Merlin believed to be his proper place. Though it annoyed Arthur to no end in the beginning, after a year of service Arthur found he  _ liked _ to argue with Merlin. And if that meant a few more thrown objects than usual, so be it. Merlin always ducked, and Arthur was careful.

Except for the one time he wasn't.

  


It was a normal day, like any other, and Merlin was going on about how unfair Arthur was for assigning him kitchen duty along with his regular chores when he still had to report to Gaius later as well. Arthur was only half listening and truthfully he didn't care. He knew if Merlin didn’t finish his regular chores another servant would be there to tend to Arthur, and Gaius would never punish Merlin for being late. The kitchen needed help today while Ronan was out with an illness. 

Merlin was just complaining for the sake of complaining, and in all honesty Arthur was sick of it. He was in no mood to listen to incessant whining from a servant who had no idea what kind of pressure came along with being a king. A role Arthur would likely take soon considering the worsening condition of his father. He was trying to focus on his reports to the king while Merlin simply would not be quiet!

“Merlin!” Arthur finally barked. “Will you please shut the hell up!?”

Merlin frowned and tossed another tunic into his laundry pile. “Yes,  _ sire _ .” The boy wasn't happy, but maybe he would actually give Arthur some peace to continue his work now.

“Prat.” It was mumbled under his breath, but Arthur heard it loud and clear.

Without a complete thought, Arthur picked up a nearby goblet and tossed it in Merlin’s general direction. He had aimed for the spot just to the left of Merlin's head but he must have moved too quickly, or Merlin was still looking at the pile of clothes before him; either way, he didn't react quick enough and...

_ Crack. _

The world actually seemed to slow down. Merlin didn’t even react right away, he seemed shocked and disoriented. Arthur shot up from his place at the desk immediately, intent on rushing to his manservant’s side. “Merlin,” he yelled.

Then his servant swayed unsteadily, leaning on the wall behind him, rubbing his head. “Ow,” he said grumpily.

Arthur sighed with relief that at least Merlin was angry and not knocked out on the floor. The prince moved towards Merlin nonetheless, but the servant flinched as he neared. Scared? Merlin wasn't scared of Arthur.

“Merlin,” Arthur said, at a loss.

The other man just glared at him. “You hit me.”

“I know.”

“You always miss.”

“I know.”

“But you hit me.”

“Merlin!” Arthur demanded, grasping for control of the situation again.

But the room was silent, and suddenly Arthur had no idea what to say. ‘ _ I'm sorry’, _ a voice in his head scolded, and wasn't it funny that it sounded an awful lot like the man standing before him now.

“You really are a prat,” Merlin commented, continuing his chore of throwing soiled clothes into a basket.

“Merlin…” Arthur pleaded, but the servant continued as if nothing was said. “I'm sorry,” Arthur whispered, hardly audible.

“What?” Merlin asked, disbelieving. 

Arthur frowned. “You heard me.”

There was a red spot just above Merlin’s left eyebrow that Arthur was  _ certain _ was not there before. It made Arthur’s chest restrict enough to make it difficult to breath. His hand was up, before he could even think on his actions, stroking the spot gingerly. “I'm sorry,” he repeated, because Merlin needed to hear it again and Arthur had never meant to do this.

Merlin looked at him as if he had just insulted his own mother, eyes incredulous. But Arthur didn’t move his hand away from his servant’s face. He just looked into those blue eyes, searching for forgiveness.

“Arthur, what are you doing? You always throw things at me, did you not think they would ever hurt me?” Merlin's tone was harsh and accusatory.

“No,” Arthur admitted honestly. “I never meant to hit you. It just… I -” but all the excuses that came to his head suddenly felt weak and small. Arthur really was a prat, wasn't he? “I'm sorry,” he finished lamely.

“Stop saying that,” Merlin spat. “We both know you'll just throw something again tomorrow.”

_ Do we? _ Arthur thought. He knew his nasty habit needed to be broken, but after this… after hurting Merlin… no, he didn't think he would throw anything ever again.

Arthur shook his head firmly. “No. It won’t. It won’t happen again, Merlin. I shouldn't have done that.”

Merlin’s mouth actually fell open. “Did you really just apologize three times  _ and _ admit fault? Who are you?”

Arthur noted that his hand was still gently stroking Merlin’s face and hair, while the other man hadn't yet pulled away. So Arthur took a chance, and stepped in closer. “Yes, that is what happened,  _ Mer _ lin. Stunning observational skills, as usual.”

Merlin chuckled, and held the prince’s gaze. “It’s all right, Arthur,” he said, a bit breathless.

Arthur took Merlin into his arms in a quick, and maybe a bit awkward, hug. They pulled away, not looking each other in the eye. Arthur tried to shake the… whatever that was, off as he moved back to his desk.

“I'll just take these to be washed and I'll see you tonight,” Merlin said, clearly forcing normalcy.

“Of course,” Arthur mumbled to his papers before him.

Soon there was a soft click of the door and Arthur relaxed.

_ What was that?  _ he wondered as he shuffled the papers before him.

His mind started to go places it had never  _ dared _ to go before, so Arthur firmly put a stop to those thoughts because he would never in a million years… not with  _ Mer _ lin. He went back to his reports to Uther.

  
  


^_^

  
  


It was late when Arthur finally was released from the council meeting. He was tired and sore and wanted only to return to his chambers and retire for the evening. He didn’t expect Merlin to return to his manservant duties after cooking dinner in the kitchen and helping Gaius, so he was looking forward to the peace and quiet of his room. Counting the steps as he ascended, Arthur thought again of his encounter with Merlin from the morning. However, this time there was less guilt than he had felt all day while thinking on it; now there was a curious fondness when considering the incident. He pictured a pair of blue eyes gazing back at him, eager and silly in their own way.

Arthur shook his head and rubbed his eyes. He needed sleep badly.

When he opened his chamber door with a soft creak, he noticed the dying fire first before finding Merlin’s limp body at the table. At first, Arthur scowled in confusion, but of course Merlin would come back to see to it that Arthur had all he needed for the evening. Because despite the fact that he was the absolute worst manservant to ever walk the earth, Merlin actually was the most loyal man Arthur knew.

For a moment too long, the prince watched his manservant sleep, with the slow rise and fall of his back as his head rest on his folded arms across the table. It was so… well, it was, if Arthur was using the first word that came to mind, he might admit that he thought it was quite possibly, maybe slightly endearing - in a way. Merlin did look absolutely exhausted, though. Even in the dark, Arthur could see the black circles around his eyes from lack of sleep, the dirt on his face and hands from gathering herbs for Gaius all afternoon, and the stains on his shirt from cooking food in the kitchen that he had no idea how to make. Then Arthur’s eyes fell on that little red mark from the morning. It was a bit darker than he remembered, and maybe somewhat bigger too. He wanted to fix it, somehow, make it better. But how? He had already done the damage and now it was too late to mend his mistake or Merlin's wound. The guilt was back, gnawing at his insides as he stared in silence.

“Merlin,” Arthur whispered after a pause. “Wake up.” His second comment may have been a bit harsher than he had intended. But that was how Arthur always was with Merlin. Rough. Mean. Cruel…

He cleared his throat.

Merlin stirred and sat up slowly rubbing his eyes. “What?” he asked in a daze.

“You fell asleep on the job,  _ Mer _ lin. As usual, you are as useless as they come.”

Arthur moved to the fire to encourage some life into it, because they needed light. Not at all because Arthur couldn't look Merlin in the eye for fear that the guilt and that other nagging feeling that had been bothering him all day would show in his eyes and Merlin would get his knowing smug look on his face. And Arthur couldn’t have that. Not at all.

Merlin made a soft whimpering sound as he stretched and Arthur felt it again. The fondness. But this time, he wanted to throw something. Only he would be sure to aim for the wall because he couldn’t hit Merlin again. And this time it wouldn't be out of anger, it would be out of confusion or frustration and maybe anger too because Merlin wasn't supposed to make Arthur feel this way. The guilt. The tenderness. The wanting to take care of him and fix him in a million different ways. This gentleness was a new feeling and he wanted to just throw things until it all made sense! It was frustrating, yes, but he had to keep his front; he had to  _ act like a prince _ . As Uther would say: he had to be a man.

“Sorry, Arthur. I fell asleep. Do you -”

“That is  _ not _ the way you address a noble, much less the way you address your prince, the future king of Camelot,” Arthur spat, turning on his heels.

Merlin looked a bit stunned, and Arthur felt it too.  _ What are you doing!? _ he thought to himself.

“Sorry… erm, sire…” Merlin scratched his head and yawned. “Do you want me to gather your night clothes? Or would you like me to prepare a bath first?”

Arthur swallowed. Why wasn't Merlin reacting to his outburst? He hardly seemed phased after the initial reaction. Was Arthur so cruel that an angry outburst seemed normal? And why did it bother him all of the sudden that Merlin didn’t react? The only thing that had happened was that he had thrown something that hit someone for a change.

But that was just it. It wasn't just anyone, it was Merlin. Merlin. Faithful, hardworking, idiot Merlin. His own manservant.

Arthur's heart hurt a great deal.

“Arthur?” Merlin asked, bringing the prince back to the room. “Bath or bed?”

“Bed,” Arthur stated as princely as he could in a single syllable.

“Bed it is,” Merlin chirped with a damn grin on his face. Then he moved from the chair and he seemed… tired. He moved slower than he had moved that morning; too much work for the day made him move like molasses with all the energy he had left in him draining as he went.

“Merlin, stop,” Arthur said, conceding a bit to his sympathy.

The servant paused, scowling. “Bath then?”

“No,” Arthur blurted. “Just go home, Merlin. You aren't fit to work.”

“What?” Merlin demanded. “I am fine, Arthur, I just -”

“What did I say about calling me Arthur? And I said you were in no shape to work! Go to bed. You're exhausted!”

Merlin actually had the gall to laugh out loud at that. “Ah, I see now,” he said smugly. “All right, then. I'll just head in early tonight.”

As he started for the door, Arthur rushed to his manservant, catching his elbow. The swift movement made Merlin turn quickly to face him before he could take even five paces. They stood like that for a confused moment, just staring at each other as Arthur held onto the other man’s elbow. Soft breaths filled the space between them as they waited together for the other to make the first move. Finally, Merlin's breath hitched as the moonlight from the single open window hit his features in a way that was…

“Get some rest,” Arthur finally whispered, letting go of Merlin.

His manservant nodded, but he didn’t move, almost as if he were waiting for something else, or maybe in a trance, or maybe too tired to move...

Arthur had no idea what was on Merlin's mind, but he knew what was on his own and he couldn’t contain it anymore. It was like his anger before, boiling over till it burst. Only this time it was different, and it didn't make him want to throw things anymore. He was done with that. It made his heart soft like a green meadow and the motivation it gave him didn’t lead to acts of violence. On the contrary, it forced him to face his compassionate side.

Gently, gently, Arthur reached out and traced the small red mark on Merlin's forehead, eyes taking in all of the new wound. “I truly am sorry for this,” he breathed into the cold air, not daring to raise his voice above a whisper.

The pause before Merlin spoke again lasted ages, it seemed. “I know,” he finally intoned mildly. “I, erm… I'm sorry too. I know you wouldn't overwork me, I shouldn’t have called you a prat.”

Arthur shook his head, not exactly sure what he was disagreeing to. Then, something in the prince’s chest loosened. He felt lighter. Merlin had forgiven him and though,he knew he hadn't quite earned it yet, he saw the trust that was there in those eyes that peered back at him. And in that euphoric moment, Arthur lost his self-restraint and did something utterly unforgivable.

He kissed his manservant.

As quickly as it had happened, the prince was already pulling away.

“Sorry,” he muttered, stumbling back.

Merlin simply stood there shocked, unmoving, with his mouth slightly open. Whether it was from surprise or… or something else, Arthur could not say. Whatever the look meant, the prince knew one thing: he was a royal arse. He couldn’t stand to look at that face any longer. It was confusing and even if Arthur deserved to feel bad, he couldn't bear it, so he turned away.

“Leave!” he demanded.

“Arthur,” Merlin protested weakly.

But it wasn't going to work. Not this time. “I said  _ leave!” _

Two heartbeats later, the door shut loudly even before the echo of his shout had faded from the room.

  
  


^_^

  
  


Merlin went straight to the kitchen the following morning, and Arthur found himself highly grateful. George came as a replacement servant which meant breakfast was on time and his bath was just the right temperature. Thinking about the night before, the prince nearly convinced himself nothing had happened. It was such a brief lapse in judgment; in truth, he had nothing to fear. He could have tripped and made the same mistake. He'd have to come up with some satisfactory excuse for Merlin, but he wasn't too worried about that.

It meant nothing.

It  _ was nothing. _

It…

Arthur felt heavy again that morning as he went to training. It was much the same feeling as he had the day before, but different somehow. Worse, almost.

The sun had hardly entered the sky or cleared the fog as the first knights staggered onto the field. It was going to be another warm day, so Arthur relished the morning cool before the sun soaked it away with its heat. He loved mornings like this, when solely his most eager knights took advantage of the summer’s early light. Only Percival and Leon seemed to be practicing as Elyan and Lancelot were still dressing in their armor, while Gwaine, of course, was nowhere to be seen.

The prince made his presence known to his loyal knights who greeted him amicably. Then he realized they were not alone. Some of the older knights, Uther’s knights, were out as well. They usually trained later in the day, taking orders from Sir Bors exclusively. Arthur ignored them for they were a rowdy group that did not respect Arthur’s place as crowned prince. Uther was their king, and though his reign would soon end, they were not ready to have a new king take his place on the throne. Certainly not one as young as Arthur.

Disregarding the other group, Arthur called his knights to him to go over the drills they would run. As he started to speak, he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. Sir Kay and Sir Lamorak seemed to be shouting, but not at each other, at another figure who was not in armor. It was distracting enough that Arthur resolved to say something. He was in no mood to deal with this nonsense so early in the morning.

As he neared, Arthur grew worried. He could see the figure against the wall was much smaller than the other two. A servant maybe? By the way they were shouting, a lousy servant, no doubt. It was when he recognized a familiar head of black hair that Arthur froze dead in his tracks across the field.

Merlin.

Sir Kay held a throwing knife in his right hand ready to…

“Kay!” Arthur shouted, breaching formalities.

The knight swiveled around on the balls of his feet, scowling, obviously perturbed that someone was ruining his fun. “Ah, Prince Arthur.”

Now that he was closer, the prince could see Merlin’s face was far from terrified, which was good, but he certainly was not happy about his position on the wall.

“What is going on here?” Arthur demanded.

Sir Lamorak laughed. “Sire, we found your manservant avoiding his usual duties serving you. He was also being insolent and disrespectful upon speaking with us. So we thought we'd use your own punishment tactics as a way of showing him how to behave.”

Arthur’s scowl deepened. He remembered the day he and Merlin met when he was throwing knives at a servant, laughing as the boy ran in fear. He swallowed hard wanting to forget how barbaric he had been. It was Merlin, after all, that had shown him how to treat others with respect - even servants - and it was Merlin’s loyalty that taught him how little ranks mattered. Merlin would be the last one to show a person disrespect. And now… now he would be punished the way Arthur had once punished his servants before he learned any of this.

“Stop!” Arthur shouted, a bit too loud and maybe not entirely directed at the knights. “Give him to me. I'll show him the respect he deserves.”

The other knights laughed, assuming Arthur meant to actually punish the boy. This made Arthur inexplicably furious, but instead of saying anything more, he took Merlin’s arm abruptly, dragging him away.

This was all his fault. Of course those knights would not look to Arthur for an example; at best, they were mocking him. But some knights did look to Arthur. And as king, his subjects would as well. What kind of example did Arthur want to set as a leader? One of brutal, inhumane punishments that didn’t fit the crime, or a leader of compassion and understanding? He knew the answer, it was merely too hard to swallow all at once.

“Let go of me!” Merlin urged. “Arthur…”

They entered the armory, and thank the gods it was empty. Arthur threw Merlin inside because he was still so angry with himself he couldn’t think straight. He kicked a fallen gauntlet, sighing heavily.

“You can’t bloody stay out of trouble for one day, can you,  _ Mer _ lin?” Arthur shouted. The other man froze, watching the prince carefully with a neutral expression upon his face. “You were to work in the kitchen, keep to yourself, and do your duties. Then you go and get yourself into trouble. It's always me saving your backside!”

Merlin let out thunderous laugh that was more facetious than genuine. “Right, Arthur. Because I never do the same for you. I'm constantly saving your life, yet I never receive any thanks for it. All you do is yell and lash out and  _ throw things  _ like a child. You'll never be a good king if you can't control your temper!” Then Merlin’s mouth snapped shut and his eyes dropped to the ground in shame. “Sorry… erm, sire.”

It was true though, what Merlin had said. Arthur would never be able to be king if he continued to act the way he had in the past. But he had gotten better over the years, he knew that. He was still attempting to better himself every day. Yet he had work to do, so he had resolved to never throw something in anger again. He was doing the best he could. And wasn't it funny that Merlin was the one to bring about the most change in him? Frustrating, idiotic, servant Merlin… The same man who seemed to have overlooked Arthur’s progress.

Merlin didn’t raise his eyes, and the silence extended between them like the years of silence. All the unspoken words Arthur had never dared to say lingered and swelled and swirled in the air betwixt the two men. It was time Merlin knew the truth. “You're right. You do so much for me and I never properly tell you how much I appreciate it. I have trouble controlling my anger, I know that. But Merlin… I am trying. I know you don't believe me, but when I said I'd never throw something at you again, I meant it.”

“Not just me, Arthur,” Merlin started, eyes desperate, “Everyone. All your servants and subjects. Anyone you cross paths with… treat them fairly and kindly.”

Arthur nodded. But the only person he continued to torment was the very man who was telling him to treat others fairly. It was some kind of irony that the man closest to him, the man Arthur cared for most, was the one who received the most unfair treatment. It was because of those strong, and very confusing feelings, that Arthur pushed so hard against, that made it so difficult to treat Merlin the way he deserved. It wasn’t right. Yesterday it had gone too far and he actually hurt his manservant. His best friend. His -

“Arthur. You're a good man. Stop acting as if you are still a boy.”

Then Merlin was gone, off to finish his duties in the kitchen most likely.

But the emptiness that Arthur was left with was more than simply the vacancy of the room; his heart longed for something intangible and unreachable and there was not a thing to be done about it.

  
  


^_^

  
  


A painful week passed with very little conversation between the prince and his manservant. Arthur ordered him to finish out the week working in the kitchen while Ronan recovered, leaving them to only see each other in passing. It was under these circumstances that Arthur learned, not easily, that the kiss was, in fact, not a mistake on his behalf.

He found it hard to even look at George, the servant who performed most of Merlin's duties while he was away. The new servant never talked back, never told Arthur his opinion, never stood up for himself, and well, never did much of anything outside of his duties. Though Merlin was in the very same castle, it felt too far, and the week too long.

Finally, when Ronan had made a full recovery, the head chef allowed him back in her kitchen, happy to relieve Merlin of his kitchen tasks. It was late in the afternoon when Merlin returned to the prince’s chambers to report for his old position.

Arthur was at his desk when he entered the room cautiously. The hesitation in Merlin’s demeanor showed he was still nervous, angry even, and it hurt in a surprising way.

“Come in,” Arthur intoned, though Merlin was already halfway through the door.

“Sire, I was told to -”

“Arthur.”

Merlin frowned. “Sorry?”

“You know my name, don’t be an idiot, Merlin.”

The manservant stood stock still for a beat, then he shook his head. “Prat,” he muttered, but there was mirth in his eyes and Arthur thought maybe a smile on his lips as well. It felt nice to see that face again, even if it was insulting him.

“Idiot,” Arthur retorted, smiling himself. “It's good to have you back, Merlin.”

This earned Arthur a genuine smile from Merlin. “Yeah, well, I could stay in the kitchen, if I wanted, but I figured you needed me here.”

Arthur scoffed. “The chef told me personally that if one of her cooks ever became ill again, she would rather go without your help.”

“She did not!” Merlin protested.

Arthur stood up and picked up his dirty tunic from the morning, tossing it at the other man. “Get to work.”

Merlin chuckled and did just that.

_ Don't do it. _

_ Don't think about it. _

_ Things are back to normal, don’t ruin it. _

“I didn’t… I mean. I know I hurt you, but did I really  _ hurt _ you?”

Merlin's posture went rigid. “Arthur,” he said like a warning. “It's fine. You've apologized more than you should, already. Just leave it.”

“I can't,” Arthur breathed, walking to his manservant. “I can't forget it. And I can't forget what you think of me. I  _ do _ need to stop acting like a spoiled prince -”

“I never said exactly that -”

“I need to behave like a king. I want to be a trustworthy king.”

“You will be. You are -”

“I want to be a good man, Merlin. And I try. I know I fail, but you're the only one who tells me when when I fail. I need you to keep telling me when I'm wrong so I know, Merlin.”

“Arthur. Stop. I overreacted and said some things I shouldn’t have said.”

“Please, Merlin. Tell me you will. Tell me you'll still be here to correct my errors…”

Silence. There was nothing in the room save for two men and a terrible silence. Agonizing wordlessness.

Then.

“I will never leave you Arthur. I'm happy to be your servant.”

Arthur swallowed back something that was threatening to come up. It wasn't the guilt again. It wasn't exactly the fondness that he couldn't shake. No. It was something buried deep within him. Something he'd always known to be true, but could never say. He loved Merlin. Loved him more than words could describe. And he couldn’t describe it. Not really. Not the way he felt. His emotions, his feelings, were not meant to be said. He could never tell Merlin that truth.

Even if he saw the same emotion reflected in the blue eyes of the man before him.

Arthur would keep those words until the day he died.

Because he couldn’t bear to be selfish anymore. He couldn’t be the immature prince who took whatever he wanted, throwing a fit when he didn’t get his way. He'd never be that way again. He had made a promise for change and it had to start here.

“Arthur? Arthur, are you all right?”

Merlin was by his side and it took Arthur a beat too long to realize he had sat at some point. He blinked up at Merlin. Looked into those eyes filled with love and concern and everything good in the world. How did he do it? How did he manage to be the most idiotic, clumsy manservant, while also having the most compassionate and loving heart? Arthur found he idolized Merlin, not for bravery or strength, like one would typically measure a man, but for his heart and his brain.

Finally, Arthur remembered to speak. “Yes, Merlin. I am fine.” He pulled himself up and away from Merlin’s grasp. “I am all right. You may continue your work. I expect to see my face in my armor tomorrow.” And with that Arthur went out the door into the corridor.

He leaned heavily against the door, letting his head fall with a soft thud. Then the door opened and Arthur nearly lost his footing as he turned to the opened door. “Merlin!” he exclaimed as he tried to act normal once again.

“Don’t be a prat. You told me to tell you when you made mistakes, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Arthur said slowly, deeply confused.

“Well, it's a mistake to kiss someone and then never speak of it again. It's a mistake to leave that person dry when they all but tell you they love you too. And you certainly don't get to act as if it doesn't matter when I know you aren't that thick Arthur.”

Merlin seemed to run out of breath before he ran out of words. But he didn’t need anymore words. Arthur was convinced. He pushed Merlin back into the room and shut the door tightly behind him. “Don’t shout those things into the corridor,  _ Mer _ lin,” Arthur scolded.

Merlin’s eyes grew comically as he glanced at the closed door.

“Don’t worry. It will be your head if we get caught,” Arthur commented lightly.

“I thought you weren’t going to be a prat anymore?” Merlin asked cheekily.

Arthur shook his head. “I don’t recall saying that.”

“You said something to that effect,” Merlin pointed out, still looking a bit nervous.

“Shut up, Merlin. You talk too much.”

And Merlin did shut up. But not of his own accord, Arthur's mouth was on his before he could take another breath.

  


The only throwing Arthur did after that was of Merlin onto his bed. As king, he did get his way all the time, it was his lover who tried to deny him of what he wanted and each time Arthur was frustrated, all he had to do was look into those eyes he loved so well and remember all the good he had in himself. The good he found from Merlin. And he never felt the need to throw a fit again.

Besides. Arthur had the world at his fingertips. To him the world came in the package of a big-eared manservant who called him a prat and a king when he was still a prince. What more could a man ask for?

**Author's Note:**

> So. Much. Angst.
> 
> Hope you still enjoyed it. Comments always welcome. Thanks for reading.


End file.
